


All-American Heretic

by Anonymous



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Cheek Kisses That Toe The Line of Decency, M/M, Not Crushing That Box Of Gay Thoughts, Real Bad Boy Stuff, Reckless Hand-Holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24080800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kevin's had thoughts.Okay, maybe they've been gay thoughts. But they're not what he thought they'd be.
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59
Collections: Anonymous





	All-American Heretic

Gay thoughts were supposed to be sinful. So they'd always been told. They were dirty and unnatural, that's why you weren't supposed to have them-- Elder McKinley didn't think you were supposed to even have them. At least it was why you weren't supposed to act on them, he'd always known that much. That it would be dirty if you did any of those things, and it would be wrong.

Except, Kevin is pretty sure that _all_ of the thoughts he has about Elder McKinley are Gay Thoughts. Capitalization and all. When he thinks Elder McKinley's smile is nice, it's a Gay Thought, and when he thinks Elder McKinley is a pretty swell guy, that's a Gay Thought, too, and when he thinks Elder McKinley has been really sweet to want to help him, he knows that's a Gay Thought, even though he isn't daydreaming about deserted islands or nudity.

When he feels jealous of boys Elder McKinley has had to work not to have his own gay thoughts about, that's a GAY THOUGHT, in flashing lights and big block letters. And he thinks he should work on not being jealous, lest jealousy turn to Envy, or... or Covetousness, or something else like that, but it's...

He doesn't think there's anything dirty about liking someone's smile, or appreciating his kindness. Or feeling flustered if he pats you on the back in just a friendly kind of way, or feeling your heart in your chest if he... if he blushes, a little bit, and pulls his hand back, and bites his lip. He wonders if maybe now he's a boy Elder McKinley tries not to have gay thoughts-- dare he hope, Gay Thoughts, capitalization and all-- about.

And then... then he wakes up and he feels _sure_ , surer than he's ever felt, _sure_ the way that he'd felt when he'd marched into that camp, only this time it's not the certainty that Heavenly Father would protect his body, but the certainty that Heavenly Father is protecting his soul. Not _from_ Gay Thoughts, or even in spite of them, just... with them. He doesn't remember any dreams, if it came from a dream. If it came from a vision, he doesn't remember that, either. But he trusts in that feeling.

"Elder McKinley? Do you mind if we talk?" He asks, pulls him aside after breakfast with a word and a look.

"No, I don't-- I don't mind that at all. Why would I? I-- I'm awfully glad you-- Well. I just... I'm always free if you needed to or wanted to talk."

And he lets Kevin lead him off, to where they can sit by themselves, and he contemplates the space between them. How little of it there is.

"I was just wondering, I guess, if... How you've been doing, with... Whether you've had any Gay Thoughts lately?"

"Oh-- no!" He shakes his head, panicky, and Kevin could kick himself for just blurting that part out right away. "No, I definitely don't do that anymore. It would be bad! So I don't."

"Well... I don't know if it is. I mean, I just _feel_ like--"

"I know, like if you didn't act on them it would be okay, but it would be-- It's just so dangerous, to be tempted like that all the time, and to-- If I was having gay thoughts, hypothetically, about someone, and I wanted him to--" Elder McKinley swallows, hard, his eyes wide. "If I wanted him to try and, to kiss me or to-- to put his hands on me, that would be..."

"A sin. Only I'm not sure it is. Well, it depends on where he puts his hands. And of course he couldn't ever kiss you if he didn't intend to marry you."

"Which he couldn't do. Not in the Temple." He turns away. "So..."

"Maybe someday. Maybe... Heavenly Father changes His mind some of the time. About what we should do and how we should believe, about what he reveals to us. About what kinds of people can be good Mormons. Maybe there's... Maybe this feeling is me, being told something new."

A prophet, isn't that what he's always wanted to be? And couldn't this feeling be his prophecy, even if he doesn't remember the voice of God in his ear? Maybe it's not a voice that booms, but a feeling of certainty that doesn't shake. Prophets, he suddenly remembers, don't tend to fare too well in their own lifetimes. And yet... when other boys dreamed of being doctors and football stars or the girls they would marry and the families they had, Kevin wanted to be chosen and spoken to and...

And a martyr, if need be. That's what he'd said once. When boys and girls first started going together, he'd said he couldn't possibly think about dating before his Mission, and when he was asked if there was a special girl he might turn his eye towards when he got back, he'd... he'd said he wasn't sure it would be very fair, because it was his intention to be so good and so pure and so dedicated that God would choose him, to bear His message, and if he was a prophet he couldn't possibly marry a girl, on the off chance that he became a martyr, and then she'd be a widow, only...

Only what he'd meant was, he'd rather be a martyr than marry a girl.

He just couldn't let himself think it.

"You sound like you believe that." Elder McKinley says, his voice soft.

"I do. I believe you were made with a purpose, and I believe every part of you is good. I don't believe I've ever met anyone as good as I think that you are. I don't believe there's any part of you that's wrong, you were made in His image, too. And so was I. And we can't know for certain what that purpose is, or why we were made the way we are, but Heavenly Father doesn't make mistakes, I believe that."

"We?"

Kevin nods.

"Oh." Elder McKinley blushes, and almost smiles.

"I don't think it's any dirtier to hold a boy's hand than a girl's, anyway. I mean-- if you intended... if you weren't just playing around with him. If you intended to wait until marriage, even if you had to wait forever, to do anything... anything that was-- for between a man and, well... husband. And if you didn't intend to marry someone else instead. Then I don't think it's a sin to-- to do some things. Kiss, even, as long as you intended-- all the right things, with it. And if you waited until you were sure. Before making a move like that."

"You think holding a boy's hand is okay?"

"Well sure. If you... if it was an expression of your feelings, and your feelings were pure. And I believe they are. Mine are."

"You should be careful who you say things like that around. I-- I wouldn't want you to get in any trouble, especially not-- not for... Not if you'd be--"

"I'm already in trouble. And do you know what?"

Elder McKinley shakes his head.

"I'm okay with that." Kevin holds his hand out, palm up. "And do you know what else I realized?"

"What?"

"I don't want to ever go where I can't call you."

"What, like..." He shrugs and he blushes, and he takes Kevin's hand. "You wouldn't go to Orlando if I was here, if we couldn't talk?"

"Well, that." He nods slowly. "But I mean... I mean I think I-- What if I could call you? _Call_ you? Or I guess if you could call me, I don't really know how it works with two boys. But... even if we could never-- even if it's not-- Maybe being married in the Temple isn't everything."

Elder McKinley _gasps_ , but he doesn't take his hand back. "Definitely don't say that in front of anyone."

"Well, I'd rather be married in the Temple, obviously, when it gets to that point. I'd rather tell people I ought to be able to. But if it doesn't happen in my lifetime, I believe Heavenly Father would allow for the union of souls in the afterlife if they were prevented by means outside their control in life. I mean... if you can baptize souls who have already died in order to have them taken into the flock and saved from an eternity of torment and separation from God, then it seems to me that all rites could be-- that death is no barrier. And so... if I dated someone, seriously, and he was serious about me, and we waited our whole lives and we worked and sacrificed and prayed and petitioned and all our lives we couldn't be married, I think... I think Heaven isn't Heaven if you can't be married to the person you love. If you can't call him and he can't call you."

"I don't know." He leans back, and then _in_. He looks away, but he leans in close. "Elder Price, that sounds an awful lot like heresy."

"Kevin."

Elder McKinley bites his lip. "Kevin. That sounds an awful lot like heresy. What-- what do you think... I mean, do you think it would be--" He swallows hard again, his adam's apple bobbing above the perfect knot of his tie. "If a boy was to say that... that he'd let another boy kiss his cheek, even if they'd only known each other a little while and they hadn't talked about being serious, really, and... and if the boy was-- Do you think that would be all right? If it's just on the cheek?"

"I think so. If it's just on the cheek, until-- until they're sure about each other and they know they're... pursuing the same goals, in dating. Then I don't think a kiss on the cheek is so different, from a boy or a girl. I mean as long as it doesn't last too long!"

"How long would be okay, do you think?"

It's Kevin's turn to gulp, to blush, the implication clear in the tilt of Elder McKinley's head, and his nearness. He screws his courage to the sticking place and he leans in. Immediately it hits him, exactly what he'd meant about temptation, and danger-- this much closeness is intoxicating, he wants so badly to linger. To do it again. To let his lips part a little more, to breathe in the scent of his clean skin, to...

To turn his head, with a hand gentle on his chin, that he might kiss his lips, his lips... But he draws back, and his palm is sweating where they still hold hands.

"Like that, I think." He says, in what he hopes is a tone of confidence.

"Oh." Elder McKinley smiles, glancing at him. "Oh. You're... you're kind of a bad boy, aren't you?"

No one's ever called Kevin Price a bad boy before. He can't quite imagine himself with a motorcycle or a leather jacket or one of those combs that looks like a switchblade but isn't. But the idea makes his stomach turn somersaults. A bad boy... a James Dean looking for his Sal Mineo. And maybe if he had a cool jacket, and it was night and it was chilly out, he'd lend it to Elder McKinley and he'd act real cool about not feeling the chill so much, and he'd put his arm around him...

"Maybe just a little bit." He shrugs, hopeful. "If you-- like that?"

Elder McKinley nods, and leans up, and kisses his cheek-- so brief, and yet the brush of his lips is an incandescent kind of joy. "Was that right?"

"I think it is." He says. "I think it's right."


End file.
